


Bump Into You

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, Dogs, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Walks In The Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 22:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20105014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: After weeks of working up the courage to ask the reader out, Clint finally takes the leap. However, their first date doesn’t quite go as planned.





	Bump Into You

Clint Barton could be a stubborn son of a bitch at times. He knew it but didn’t care all that much. Usually it worked out fine. His determination and focus (for that was how he preferred to view his behaviour) were of great value, sometimes. Hell, just last week the new arrows he’d been slaving away on for weeks had come in great use on the mission and all those hours of failed tests and electrocutions had been worth it. 

Of course, most of the time his stubbornness was less of the intellectual variety and more like a two year old having a tantrum after being told to do something they didn’t want. Like the laundry. Or getting out of bed. 

Today was most certainly the latter kind. 

Natasha, the version of her which lived on inside his head (yes, he knew he needed to get help and deal with his grief in a healthier way than avoidance or using violence), had been on his for weeks to take the step and ask you out. Ever since he had first seen you in the park that day, he’d wanted to get to know you but, despite his dead friend’s insistence that he just make the move already, he was waiting until he was ready. 

He called his refusal stubbornness to hide the fact that it was, really, just fear. Plain old fear. After his marriage with Laura had broken down - they just weren’t the same people anymore; the split had been amicable and he could visit the kids whenever he wanted but they both needed to find their places in this new world - he had tried to move on. He knew deep down that any new relationship would likely end in disaster but you… You were certainly worth that risk. 

After that first brief glance at you in the park with your dog (he told himself it was the beautiful pup that caught his eye, even though he knew better), Clint had felt a pull to you. He couldn’t explain it but you’d captured his attention and visions of your eyes and smile littered his dreams. You had clouded his thoughts for too long; it was finally time to be brave and introduce himself. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t exactly start off well.

Having finally gained the courage to introduce himself, Clint almost immediately tripped over your dog’s leash and pulled all three of you into nearby bush. Tangled, almost gasping for breath as your dog scrambled up and tightened the leash around his neck, Clint caught your dog in his arms and petted him soothingly until he stopped fidgeting and gave him the chance to work free of the stranglehold. 

From there, it was easy to untangle himself from you - although he almost didn’t want to since your body fit so well against his. Then Clint checked you over, your protests lost beneath him fussing. God, the last thing he wanted was to have hurt you. This really wasn’t the best of starts. But, on the plus, you weren’t screaming or shouting at him so maybe there was still hope yet. 

“I’m fine, really,” you insisted, lips moving but no sound coming out. 

Clint tapped his ears and muttered, “Hearing aids. Fallen out.”

You nodded understandingly and joined the search through the undergrowth without a care in the world as the mud and dirt got under your fingernails. It only took a few seconds to find the bright purple aids among the dark leaves and you handed them back with a smile. Not the pitying kind which others so often reserved for him, more amused than anything else. 

Leaning over, you plucked the leaves from his hair and smiled again. Clint couldn’t believe the way you were looking at him. Like he was something special, someone worthy of your time and attention. It made his heart grow in his chest, not an entirely comforting feeling if he was being honest. Already his suspicions had been confirmed: you were a truly decent person and you deserved someone better than him. What if he couldn’t be what you needed?

“I really am sorry,” Clint said, wincing at the sharp buzz in his ears. Adjusting the levels on his aids, he was surprised that you waited for him to finish before speaking. People were rarely so conscientious. You really were special. 

“Honestly, it’s fine,” you assured him. “There’s nothing I love more than tumbling in the bushes with a handsome stranger.”

Clint offered you a hand up which you graciously accepted. Your skin was so soft against his, delicate and pristine against his rough, battle worn hands. Fingers lingering in yours a moment longer than was socially acceptable for strangers, Clint coughed awkwardly and introduced himself. “I’m Clint.”

“Y/N.”

“Well, sorry again for bumping into you. Literally. I’d say I’m not normally this clumsy but I am.”

Your gaze shifted to the ground, before settling back on his face. A shy smile lit up your face. “Actually, I kinda hoped you would. Bump into me, I mean. I see you every day on your jog and have been working up the courage to say hi.”

Taking your admission as proof he hadn’t yet irreparably screwed this up, Clint asked, “I don’t suppose you’d fancy grabbing a coffee sometime?”

Braced for the worst, despite the annoying glimmer of hope which now burned in his chest, Clint stared dumbfoundedly when your smile grew. 

“I’d love that. Are you free now?”

“I… uh… yes?” Hating himself for his bumbling lack of confidence - god, he wished he was as calm and collected as the other Avengers sometimes - Clint raked his fingers through his hair and tried again. “I mean, sure. I’d really like that.”

Maybe a dash of caffeine would help him seem less like the idiot he knew he could be. Yes, coffee sounded perfect. Plus it had been a whole two hours since his last one and that was practically days ago as far as his system was concerned. 

You led Clint through the park, happily chatting away until you reached a small coffee shack. It was the kind of place that Clint would ardently avoid. ‘Cool’ places were the drinks had long names, high prices and almost no caffeine in them. They came in funny shaped cups with weird flavourings and you were expected to say something intelligent about the flavour or smell instead of just downing it like a common soul in need of brain juice. 

His gaze flickered away from the menu and Clint was surprised to catch you openly smirking at him. The crease in his forehead only grew deeper when you looked to the highly tattooed man behind the counter and greeted him cheerily, the ease of the interaction suggesting you knew him well. 

“I think my friend wants a plain black, Matty. Maybe an extra shot at the bottom too, if you could.” You turned to Clint as if suddenly realising how presumptuous you were being to order for him but he couldn’t hate you for it. In fact, he found it incredibly endearing - and more than a little terrifying - that you could read him so easily already. “That’s okay, isn’t it? You looked on the verge of a breakdown at the proposal of a no fat, skinny latte with caramel sauce. I figured you were the kind of guy to take it as it comes.”

“You’re amazing. That. That’s amazing. The coffee. I… Uh…” Turning to the terrifying man inside the shack, who really did seem more suited to a life with a murderous biker gang than serving overpriced 'coffee’ in a park, Clint muttered, “The strongest black you’re legally allowed to give me, please.”

A few minutes later, and a signed note (on a slightly sticky napkin) which said Clint had willingly and knowingly gone in for this on his own accord, Matt slid over his grand creation. The thick, bitter stench of coffee burnt his nostrils as Clint breathed in the monstrous drink in his hands. He took a sip and recoiled in horror, almost spilling the boiling poison down your front. Thankfully his reflexes were fast and he managed to save you from his own clumsiness. 

Staring back down at the dark, boiling liquid, Clint had to admit that he may finally have found his match. Even by his standards, this was too strong. But he wasn’t one to give up - that stubbornness ran deep - and he stared Matt dead in the eye as he downed the rest of the cup, the battery acid masquerading as coffee burning his insides, no doubt shutting his organs down one at a time. 

“Keep him,” Matt proclaimed, reaching down over the counter and patting Clint heartily on the shoulder. “_That_ is the kind of man whose babies you want to have. Don’t let him get away.”

“I hate you so much,” you hissed, snatching your coffee from the counter and trying (but failing) to hide the embarrassed way in which your eyes widened at the suggestion. You tugged gently on your dog’s leash, the young pup eagerly jumping up and dragging you down the path on what Clint assumed (knew from weeks of totally not creepy watching) was your usual walk home. 

“Ciao, bella. Say hey to your cute neighbour for me.”

Clint glanced back at Matt, who was now busying himself with charming a young lady in an incredibly see-through sports bra, in confusion. That deadly shot of coffee had certainly messed with his brain - he was about two steps from leaping off the ground and flying home - but he was fairly certain that your name wasn’t Bella. No, that was an Italian thing. 

Your name was… Shit. He couldn’t remember. Months of pining after you and he’d forgotten your name. It was too late to ask again now without seeming like a grade A douchebag. Forcing himself to breathe naturally, focusing on the sweet melody that was your voice, Clint tried to calm himself. It would come to him. It had to. 

The rest of your impromptu date was great. Short but great. Unfortunately, duty called and he had to leave far sooner than he wanted but you’d taken it in your stride. 

“Can I see you again?” you asked shyly. 

“Yes,” he answered, far too quickly to be smooth. “I mean, I’d like that. A lot.”

Clint pulled out his phone and faltered as he stared at the blank contact details. Already aware that he’d waited a second too long to begin typing your name, he glanced up at you and forced a lazy grin on his face. He didn’t want to mess this up so early on and risk losing the chance to get to know you better but if he didn’t type something then you’d get offended and probably never want to see him again. 

So, he did the only sensible thing he could think of. He typed _sexy park angel _and handed over the handset before he could change his mind. Thankfully, you smiled at the screen and typed in your number as he did the same in your phone. 

Switching back, you rocked on your heels, clearly wanting to say something else. However, you didn’t get the chance as your dog started to pull you away to sniff the butt of another nearby pooch. With an apologetic smile, appearing genuinely sad to leave, you said, “Bye, Clint. See you soon.”

“I hope so. See you round.”

It was about halfway through his meeting with Maria and Sam, a boring briefing on a mission that was supposedly only a simple in and out but would no doubt end with him in hospital, that Clint’s phone buzzed on the table. He hadn’t really been paying attention anyway, too busy running over the events of the morning and hating himself for forgetting your name and just all round making a bit fool of himself, so neither chastised him for answering it. 

It was a text from you: 

_Really glad you bumped into me earlier. Sad we had to cut it short but looking forward to seeing you again x_

A few seconds later, another message came through.

_P.s. don’t beat yourself up about forgetting my name. Anxiety sucks and we can blame the mind altering coffee from Matty for your memory lapse if you wanna pretend it didn’t happen. Good luck on your mission, get back safe and you can take me out for dinner. Y/N x_

Clint smiled at the screen before pocketing his phone so that neither Sam nor Maria had the chance to take it from him and see why he was suddenly so happy (they were, for some reason, overly interested in his love life, probably because neither of them had one). Regardless of what his brain told him, you apparently did like him back. He might not understand why - Natasha tried to explain however wasn’t all that convincing in her praise - but Clint was glad you did. Maybe this would work out well, after all.


End file.
